


Interlude at the Benefit

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Dean Winchester AU [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Professor Dean Winchester, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:14:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Winchester and the reader have to attend a formal dinner party. Not together, which isn’t any fun. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude at the Benefit

You straightened the tight black dress, trying to pull it down a couple of inches. You examined your hair and make-up one more time before strolling purposefully out the door and down the hallway, determined to finish out this evening with a smile on your face.

You’d been roped into helping at the university’s yearly benefit dinner, an event staffed by students and staff and attended by alumni. It was the biggest fundraiser of the year and every professor on campus recruited their best students to help at the semi-formal event. Ironically, the one professor you disliked the most, who taught the same subject as the professor you were in love with, had asked for your assistance. Professor Singer had stopped you as class ended one day to ask for your help. He’d been very persuasive, even offering extra credit if you helped out. You’d agreed, though you hadn’t been very happy about it. Things had improved a little bit when you’d found out Professor Winchester was going to be there as well. At least you’d be able to see him, even though you wouldn’t be together. You figured it was better than nothing.

Unfortunately, it had been nothing. Dean had spent most of the evening surrounded by alumni, while you’d been stuck in a corner working with Garth of all people, answering questions and manning the brochure table.

Professor Winchester looked absolutely gorgeous. Not that he didn’t look that good everyday, but he looked particularly good in the suit he’d chosen to wear. Only he could wear a denim shirt, green tie and _that_ blue suit and look that damn good. You hadn’t been able to keep your eyes off of him.

Neither had a lot of the women in attendance. You’d watched in frustration as a multitude of women had come and gone from the circle of people surrounding him, some of them staring in awe at Dean, a lot of them flirting shamelessly with him. He took the attention in stride, laughing and chatting with everyone, men and women alike. The only thing that had kept you from drowning in jealousy had been the occasional wink he’d shot your way.

It was quiet in the hallway, empty, the dinner party contained to the large banquet room on the other end of the university’s convention center. You didn’t want to go back into the crowded room and watch all those women flirt with Dean; it made your stomach twist into knots. You stopped halfway back to the banquet room and leaned against the wall. You slipped off your high heels, sighing in relief. You checked your watch, groaning inwardly. Another hour. You weren’t sure you could last that long. You put your head back and closed your eyes, reveling in the silence.

“No napping in the hallway, Y/N,” your favorite velvety smooth voice murmured close to your ear.

You jumped, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept over your face. You opened your eyes to see a pair of gorgeous green eyes staring into yours. “Professor Winchester,” you breathed.

He smirked, tangled his fingers in your hair, tipped your head back and leaned his forehead against yours. “I love it when you call me that,” he whispered. He glanced up and down the hallway, then chanced brushing a kiss over your lips. He bent over and snagged your heels with two fingers, took your hand and pulled you several steps back the way you’d come, pushed open a door to a dark room and ushered you inside.

It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. It looked like you were in a small conference room, there were tables and chairs stacked haphazardly all over the room. Dean led you a little farther into the room, away from the door, his hands warm on your waist. He set your shoes on one of the tables and pressed you against the wall between the stacks of chairs, his body flush against yours, his hands sliding down your waist to rest on your hips.

“I’ve been watching you all night,” he murmured. “I like this dress.” His hands moved down to the hem of your skirt and pulled it up until it was resting just below the curve of your ass. “You look absolutely edible.” He ducked his head and kissed your neck, his tongue sliding slowly over your pulse point, lightly nipping at the spot just under your jaw, that spot that sent chills down your spine and caused heat to pool in the pit of your stomach. Your skirt moved higher and Dean’s knee pushed apart your legs, his thigh pressing against the warm heat emanating from between your legs.

You moaned quietly, wrapped your fingers in the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer, rubbing your cheek against the short, scruffy softness of his beard. “I’ve been watching you, too,” you gasped as his hands slid under your ass. “All those women flirting with you…”

“They were nothing compared to you,” he replied. “I couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful you looked, how much I wanted you, how much I needed you.” His hands were hot against your skin as he pulled your skirt up around your waist. “When I saw you leave the room, I had to force myself not to follow you. But I couldn’t stop thinking about getting you alone and what I would do if I could.” He kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth, exploring you, tasting you.

You almost couldn’t breathe, your body undulating against his as you burned with need for your Professor. Jesus, the things this man did to you, the way he made you feel.

Dean pulled away and stared into your eyes, brushed your hair from your eyes and placed an almost chaste kiss to your lips. He watched you, his forehead pressed to yours, as he slipped his fingers down the front of the tiny thong you were wearing, caressing you roughly, insistent and needy. You gasped as he slipped one inside you, pumping it in and out, the palm of his hand pressed hard against your clit. Your breath was tearing in and out of your throat, your hips bucking, and you had to bite your lip to hold back the obscene moan about to come out of your mouth.

“I need you, Y/N,” he growled. “Right now, baby.” He pushed your thong down your legs, then impatiently unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and throbbing. He lifted you with one arm and rubbed the head of his cock against the wet lips of your pussy, drawing another moan from you, then he was entering you, pushing into your wet heat with a low groan. He wrapped an arm around your waist and held you against the wall as he thrust into you, burying himself deep inside you.

All you could do was hold on as Dean slammed into you repeatedly, short, tight thrusts that had you begging him to fuck you harder, to move faster, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening rapidly, close to exploding in no time at all. His mouth was a constant presence on your neck, your shoulders, your lips, his hands holding you so tight you knew you’d have bruises later.

“Jesus, Dean,” you gasped, clutching his shoulders as you pushed yourself down onto him, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you.

His lips skimmed your jaw, soft gentle kisses. He sucked your earlobe into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth. He pulled almost completely free of you before slamming back into you, knocking you into the wall.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“Oh, G...g...god, Pr...professor Winchester,” you stammered. You were close, so close, you could feel your orgasm within your grasp, building and building, a high pitched keening sound working it’s way out of you as the sensations moved through you.

“Shh, baby, you have to be quiet,” Dean murmured in your ear. He rested a finger lightly over your mouth, once again staring into your eyes, everything he was feeling obvious in his own sparkling green eyes.

You nodded weakly, barely coherent of what you were doing as he moved his hips, slow and easy at first, but then he let loose, his hips pistoning rapidly as he thrust into you. He caught your lips in his, sucking your tongue into his mouth, swallowing your moans of pleasure. You hit your peak, suddenly drowning in the waves of ecstasy washing over you as you rode out the orgasm.

Dean was right behind you, pulling you down onto his cock at the same time that he buried himself inside you with one last hard thrust, groaning your name as he came. He slipped a hand between you, teasing your clit with the tip of his fingers, working you through the orgasm still rushing through you, kissing your neck gently, his beard brushing against your throat.

When he finally set you on your feet, your legs were trembling, so much so that you could barely hold yourself up. He held you with his arm around your waist and his fingers tangled in your hair, his kisses sweet and tender, waiting until you stopped shaking. He eventually straightened your dress, pulling the skirt back down, covering you, before snagging your shoes from the table and handing them to you. He put his own clothes back in place, then he enveloped you in his strong embrace and buried his face against your neck.

“I need to get back,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you smiled.

“I’d rather stay in here with you,” he said. He brushed a kiss over your lips. “I’ll call you later.” One more kiss and he was opening the door, looking up and down the hallway, then calmly stepping out, pulling the door closed quietly behind him.

You sighed heavily as a feeling of contentment filled you. You smiled to yourself, your fingers pressed to your mouth, the feel of Dean’s lips against yours still evident. You pushed yourself away from the wall and made your way to the door. Just as you were about to open it, you remembered that your thong was somewhere on the floor. Your very tiny, very _black_ thong.

“Shit,” you muttered. There was no way you’d be able to find it; you didn’t dare turn on the light and you’d left your phone in your purse back in the banquet room. You squinted, hoping you could miraculously see it in the dark room. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, you gave up, resigning yourself to the fact that the thong was gone. You pulled open the door and stepped into the hall, just as Garth appeared at the door to the banquet room.

“Y/N!” Garth called, hurrying toward you. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry Garth,” you smiled weakly. “I, uh, wasn’t feeling so great. I...um...needed a minute.”

“You are looking a little flushed,” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s get this evening over with. This has been the dullest night of my life.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, following Garth back to the banquet room. “Very dull.”


End file.
